Pressure's Family Not my best
by SquickWrites
Summary: HAI. This is another DN OC i have, her name is Pressure. I still have to finish her intro story, but I have a loaner so it might be a while ' Hope you like!


**YO! WAZZA? So I need to start chapter4 for Life Note, I know, but I'm not in the mood for doing anything related to Death Note right now. NOTHING. Like REALLY. It pained me to finish this story, but I didn't want to come BACK to it and hate doing DN stories MORE, so I just finished. Then I'm gonna go do another thing. SO this is the story of our friendly red-head Pressure. For those of you on FF, you don't know about her, but all the DAers probably do if they are reading this. Just check my profile and she's somewhere in there XD So. Yeah. Bai**

**~Otaku ^^**

The man sat in the chair in the dimly lit room. He was probably in his early twenties, maybe 23 or 24. But it didn't really matter how old he was. This man was lethal. He was, after all, a serial killer. It had taken the FBI months to catch him, and he was acting surprisingly calm during interrogation.

Two FBI agents stood behind a black-tinted window that led into the secluded room that man was in. Light and Pressure. They weren't best friends, but they didn't exactly hate each other. Still, they were capable of working as a team.

"So just what was your intent? Why are you killing people? And more importantly, what in your right mind would make you attempt to attack L?" The male's voice erupted through the speakers in the brown room from the microphone he held in his hand. He was growing angrier with each question.

But the girl with bright red hair stayed quiet. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded. One foot was against the wall, tapping it while the other held her steady. A frown was on her face, her eyes were closed.

The man grinned, still seated and closed his eyes too.

Pressure pushed herself away from the wall and turned towards Light. He grew more and more frustrated as their captive grew comfortable. One thing about Light that he didn't get about himself was that he wasn't scary. When Light tried to act scary, it ended up being _funny_.

Light acknowledged her sudden movement and looked back at her. She now had her hand outstretched, as if asking for something. He noticed her eyes wander slowly towards the microphone and he let it go, bringing his hand down. He moved to the side and Pressure assumed his previous position. She turned the sliding chair around backwards as she sat down. She cleared her throat and began to speak:

"What is your name again?" she asked plainly.

"Freelancer." Was his simple answer. Freelancer wouldn't be able to see it, but behind the window, Pressure was smiling. "Another Wammy Kid, eh? Well you're a little like my _brother _ when you think about it.: She said, immediately recognizing this kind of name no one else would have.

"So you're a dear old Wammy girl?" He asked, his words turning to oil. "Most definitely." She replied, just as easily. But she wasn't done yet, now that she'd gotten a taste of who he was, there were some things she could just guess at. "So, if I've got your views correctly into perspective, I don't understand why you didn't go after L in the first place.

The man's grin grew. "Since you're a Wammy Girl, I'll tell you. Butm being in the FBI, I'm surprised you can't guess. It's all the rage now, it's the reason everyone is killing. Now that u think of it, it's the _only_ reason people are killing now-a-days."

"And what might that be?" Pressure queried.

"Money." Freelancer stated it without expression. She looked to her right and Light looked back at her. For a couple of seconds, they stood like that in silence, then she turned, this time to her left, and began shuffling towards the door to the compact room the man was sitting in. She reached for the doorknob when Light yelled, "Hey!" She stopped in her tracks.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked quickly. "Opening the door." Pressure replied, her face a blank yet confused stare. Light was now looking at her stupidly. "That," he said, pointing to Freelancer in a voice you would use on an oblivious child. "Is a serial killer. He. Will. Kill. You." He finished. Pressure felt shock in her heart. Light was remotely worried about her. Had that really been concern?

She jiggled the knob, rocking back and forth on her feet and biting her other hand. "I'll be fine, he won't hurt me." She said, nibbling her thumb. "And why is that?" he asked irritably. "I just know." Was her only reply before opening the door and shutting it behind her. Light stood there, watching.

"You're a little cocky aren't you? I'd kill a girl. I'd gladly kill a girl. Come a little closer and I'll prove it." He commented, smiling. "You think _that's_ the reason?" Pressure's smile grew bigger than his. "I have a much better one. Much better." She threw her head back and laughed.

"Back when you were at Wammy, you were a jerk. You didn't like friends. But despite this, there was someone you cared for. Even if you barely noticed it, there was someone. She was like your little sister. You barely ever parted. Oh and L too. Both of you took such good care of her." Pressure's face was hidden in the darkness. The single bare light bulb could only shed so much light in the damp, brown room. But it was enough that Pressure could see the horror on Freelancer's face.

"What are you getting at?"He asked through gritted teeth. "Emotions are funny y'know." Pressure began walking behind the man. Then she bent over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "They make it so easy to tear people apart. It's even easier when the emotion is for a person. People are so easy to kill…" Pressure smiled, moving away from his ear.

Freelancer turned and lunged for Pressure's throat, but she quickly stepped to the side. Light made a beeline for the door and threw it open. Freelancer was poised in an almost animalistic stance. His legs were spread apart and his hands were open, outstretched in Pressure's direction like claws. Pressure's face was once again hidden in the darkness, but the streak of light shone across her face in an eerie way that made her smile seem almost… evil.

"What did you do to her?!" Freelancer yelled across the room. Pressure said nothing. "What did you do?!" He screeched louder. Pressure still said nothing, just stood there with a smile. Then she chuckled, enraging Freelancer even more.

He rushed at Pressure and grabbed the collar of her black and white shirt. The frantic man brought Pressure's face close to his. The fire was evident in his eyes. "I told you I would gladly kill you. If you don't tell me _where she is_ and _what you did_, I swear, I will, without hesitation-" Suddenly he stopped. His eyes had met hers. This was the first time he had really seen her face. And what he saw ran chills down his spine. He let go of her collar and she dropped to the ground squarely on both feet. Her smile had not fallen once, as Freelancer's eyes dropped to the floor.

"No…" He whispered, as his eyes flicked up to her. Pressure's smile went from evil to sympathetic. "I didn't do anything to her…" She said quietly. "She just grew up into… someone else."

Freelancer was hanging his head in shame, like some puppy that had just sat on the couch, knowing it shouldn't have. He couldn't bring himself to look at her again. This wasn't right… she couldn't be…

"Pressure…." He whispered.

His light brown hair fell into his eyes. But instead of attacking, yelling or being angry, Freelancer lunged for her again. He wrapped his arms around her in a sort of attempt at an embrace. Pressure knew he wasn't accustomed to this. Caring, feeling, letting his emotions flow for the first time in years.

She hugged him back and ran her fingers through his shaggy brown mop top. "You know… you're a horrible role model." She said, still holding him tight. "I know, but you weren't around to keep me in line anymore." He replied. His arms were so tight around her that it seemed like he never wanted to let go. And honestly, he didn't.

But Pressure released him anyway. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you." She said with a sigh.

Freelancer said nothing. He just stared into Pressure's green eyes. She had grown up so well. His little sister, who had been all alone without him, had managed to find a path in life. A better one than he had taken. And to see her face again, smiling at him, made him the happiest man on earth.


End file.
